They reached a crumbling stone bridge that spanned a river of molten light with undead creatures,a feature from one of her fantasy worlds she created. As they crossed, the air grew heavy and misty, and Nia felt that somebody is watching them.

“Wait,” she said, stopping in the middle of the bridge.

Eli turned, his expression wary. “What is it?”

Before she could answer, the shadows around them surrounded into a familiar form. Jax stood at the far end of the bridge, his smirk colder than ever.

“Going somewhere, little mouse?” he taunted.

Nia’s heart sank.

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“This is a game,” Jax continued, his voice dripping with malice. “And you’re breaking the rules.”

Eli drew his blade, stepping in front of Nia. “Stay behind me.”

Jax’s laugh echoed through the air. “Do you really think you can stop me? I’m not just a character anymore I am real. I’m everything she feared, everything she abandoned. And I’m not letting her rewrite me.”

Nia’s hands clenched into fists. “You don’t have to do this, Jax. We can fix this together.”

Jax’s eyes darkened. “Fix it? You mean go back to being your puppet? No, Nia. This is my story now.”l'm the creator now.

The bridge trembled beneath them as Jax raised his hand, summoning a wave of shadow that surged toward them like a tidal wave.

“Run!” Eli shouted, pushing Nia toward the other side.

As the darkness closed in, Nia realized with a sinking feeling that the heart of the story wasn’t just a place. It was a test a test of whether she could face the consequences of what she had created and find the courage to reclaim her role as the storyteller.

And she was running out of time. She had to do something anything to stop this madness